The Wages of Sin
by Rye Scop
Summary: Edmund faces the consequences of his actions. AU. Rated T for depictions of death.


**The Wages of Sin  
**

 **Another one-shot, this time in the Chronicles of Narnia Movie-verse.**

 **Warning: AU; Major Characters Dead.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Pevensies, Aslan, Narnia, the White Witch, or any others. The estate of C.S. Lewis owns these characters, as well as whoever the movie rights go to.**

 **Summary: Edmund faces the consequences of his actions.**

"You think you're Dad, but you're not!"

"Some little children just don't know when to stop pretending."

"Why? They're nothing special."

Edmund choked a little, covering his mouth to mute the sounds. He was afraid he would attract the attention of his captors, and his moment of grieving would be cut off too soon. He just...he just needed a little more time. He _needed_ to be here, to be present, to mourn and repent of the things he had done. He was guilty, so guilty, and the blood of three...the flesh and blood of his...his flesh and blood, their blood was on his hands. Tears blurred his vision and dropped to the ground. _Plick... ... ... ... Plick... ... ... ..._ Yet he could still see the red, and the white, and the mud that mixed with their life and stank with the rottenness of what he'd done. _Am I my brother's keeper?_ A week ago, he would have said no. But now...

The twelve year old bit his lip to keep in the sobs and the pain. His body jerked with soundless cries, and he tried to steady his breath as he pulled it in again. Anguish, pure anguish without word or thought consumed him, controlled him, and he wrapped his arms around his middle and squeezed tight in a semblance of a hug. No more bear hugs from Peter. No more kisses on top of his head from Susan or doe eyes bright with admiration from Lucy. They were gone. Forever. And it was all his fault.

If Edmund had any deity to pray to, he would. But his mother was a stout atheist, and his father only a sometime church-goer; as in, he went once a year to fulfill a requirement of some sort, and never took his children. He didn't know how to pray, or to Whom to pray, and he knew not of any god that lived here, or he surely would have tried to bargain with them. Take his useless, selfish, miserable life in exchange for that of his siblings. It was only fair: he was the one that had sinned, not them. He _deserved_ to die. But not his family. Never them.

The child's sobs died down to sniffles, and his tears cleared enough to look mournfully at his deceased brother and sisters.

They were still wearing those ridiculous furs, he noticed. Well, Susan and Peter were, anyway. Lucy had lost hers, somehow, her little green sweater the only thing to keep out the cold. She was also the only one without any open wounds, her lips blue and her skin almost translucent. Her freckles were little specks of color across an otherwise snow-white canvas. They'd drowned her, he'd found out. Used their front paws and held her underwater until she'd suffocated. The wolves had had no compunctions about telling him exactly how his family had died.

Susan had a bite on her forearm and a bloody claw mark down her stomach. Her neck was twisted at an odd angle, her lips open and blue-tinged. One had held her while another lunged for her throat. She had managed to dodge the teeth, but not the heavy body that had pushed back her chin quickly and to an unnatural tilt. The only comfort Ed had was the fact that she'd probably died quickly, at least the fastest of his siblings. He hoped she hadn't been in too much pain.

Peter...well, Peter was the worst off. He was covered in blood from head to toe. Edmund felt a sense of hollow pride that his brother had managed to kill several of the wolves with a broadsword before he'd died. He was torn up, however, and his eyes stared a pale blue as his throat glowed a red crimson. He'd been gutted and mutilated, and one claw mark tracked from the corner of one eye down to his chin. Edmund crawled forward unsteadily on hands and knees 'til he got to his sibling. Reaching forward he touched cold skin and congealed blood and gently closed his brother's eyes.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, as if one apology could fix this whole mess. It couldn't, of course. Nothing could fix this now. He closed his eyes as all feelings emptied from him. He felt gutted, empty. Like one of those statues sitting in the queen's courtyard. He wished he was one of them, because then he wouldn't have to think, to feel. He wouldn't care right now if the witch came up to him and ran him through with a spear. He didn't think he'd even be able to feel the weapon enter or leave. Not with this pain that was currently drowning him.

He was Icarus, whose pride had led him too close to danger and he'd fallen. He was Mordred, who had tried to kill his father and take the glory for himself. He was Lady Macbeth, scrubbing and scrubbing and scrubbing until the red did run in the water, sighing and saying "out spot!" and unable to ever be clean. This festering, this disease that had taken hold of him and gripped his soul clung tightly and refused to let go. It was a living thing, gorged off of his choices and off the blood of his kin. _Traitor._ He had let this darkness in, had courted it, had entertained it, and now these were the consequences of his actions.

It was like someone had ripped out his heart and replaced it with a void of ice, freezing up the surrounding organs while that one was absent. But maybe that's how he'd always been. Maybe he'd always had a dark, cold nothingness for a heart, and had never realized it 'til now.

At that moment the witch herself walked into the clearing. Beside her stood her dwarf driver, smiling smugly at Edmund and motioning to the other Pevensies' bodies with his eyes. Edmund didn't react, just turned his gaze to the fell queen. He was vaguely aware of the other creature snorting and grumbling, but his attention was on the one who had ordered his family's deaths. There was a cool confidence, a sort of pride in her gaze as she looked down at what she had done.

"Well, it seems as though you are now truly alone, Edmund." Her eyes snapped up to his when he didn't reply. "You have nothing to say?"

The child turned his attention back to his siblings, only vaguely registering the, "Very well then. Take him back to the rest of the camp." He only reacted when her strong minion grabbed his arms and began to pull him away from his family.

"Wait, no!" he cried out, but he went mostly ignored as the witch's servant pulled him away and out of the clearing where their bodies lay vulnerable to scavengers, unburied, and exposed to the elements. He struggled in the thing's grasp until he was hit up the side of the head and stunned long enough for a knife to be pressed against his throat.

"I wouldn't move if I were you," his captor growled, but Edmund didn't care about the blade, he just needed his brother and sisters.

"Please, let me-" the dwarf grabbed his hair and jerked his head back, cutting him off. Ed gasped as the edge cut deeply against his collarbone. The shock was enough to shut him up and for the dwarf to push him against a tree. His head was slammed against the trunk several times before he was released to fall to the ground. Dazed and unable to resist, he was walked into the middle of the camp and secured tightly near the queen's tent. a dirty gag was quickly stuffed into his mouth, but the preteen didn't care. There was no reason to anymore. The world became vague and hazy around him, and not even the shouts and clangs as soldiers got ready for a large battle were able to stir him.

Which was why he was so surprised when it was a low, warm, rich voice that woke him up. He looked up to notice that none of his tormentors were around, and that he was staring in the face of a large, golden Lion. "Edmund, do you want Me to rescue you?"

Edmund opened his mouth to answer, then promptly closed it again around the gag. The truth was, he didn't want to be rescued; he deserved every punishment he got but... that wasn't really the truth, he realized. He deserved much worse, and... _Do you want Me to rescue you?_ The boy looked up at his Savior. Instead of fear and disgust like he'd first felt, He radiated warmth, love, acceptance... _forgiveness._ He wanted that. He _needed_ that, so, so badly. So Ed nodded.

The large Cat lifted up an enormous paw, and suddenly the child feared he'd been misunderstood. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut as the claws descended, but instead of feeling intense pain, he felt the ropes give way, and his arms were able to move from his sides.

He opened his eyes and watched as the Lion lowered His head, offering him support. Edmund got up shakily, and rested his arm on... _Aslan_ _'s_ shoulders as he was helped to his feet. Edmund tore the dirty rag from his mouth, and stood there for a second before it all began to sink in.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'msorry, i'msorry, imsorry..."

"Shh," the King hushed. "I know."

"But P-Pete, and L-Lu, and S-Su..."

"They believed in Me, so I'm taking them Home. They won't be left out here in the cold."

"I...t-they..." Edmund shuddered. "It's all my fault."

Aslan gently turned to him. "Yes, it is," He said in His rich, golden voice. Guilt crashed down on the last Pevensie once again, and he had to look away. "However, if you wish I can free you from your punishment."

"Don't You see? I _deserve_ it. I _deserve_ that punishment!" Pain tightened Ed's throat. "I should be dead alongside my siblings."

"Yes, you should. You deserve to be punished for what you have done. But I am willing rescue you. I will take it all, if you wish."

"What? Why? I deserve to die."

"I would take it for you. I will give Myself freely to save you, Edmund Pevensie. I would die for you."

"You hardly know me. You don't know everything I've done..."

"I know about Jadis, and the Turkish Delight, and Mr. Tumnus, and about the War on Earth. I know how you lied about your sister, and how you sold out your siblings to the witch. I know all about it; I've seen all of it," He took a few steps closer, "I know what the punishment is, and I will still take it all for you."

"I-I don't understand."

"I love you, child. More than you could ever know. Enough for Me to die for you."

"I'm sorry."

"Do you accept? Just ask Me, and I can free you from your punishment."

"For me?"

"For you. For anyone who wants forgiveness."

"What-what do I have to do?"

"You know what you've done is wrong. You understand your crime. Just accept My offer, and you're free."

"And that's it? I don't get punished?"

"You still have the natural consequences, little one. Your family is no longer with you. But I will take the punishment required for your sins; I will take your place. Do you understand?"

Slowly, Edmund nodded.

"I'm sorry," he said again.

"I know."

"I-I-" his face crumpled. "Please, forgive me. I accept Your gift; please, rescue me... save me. Just, please, don't die." Edmund had Someone he loved again. He couldn't lose anyone else.

The Lion pulled him close and rubbed his cheek against Edmund's hair in the semblance of a hug.

"It's time for you to wake up, now."

"What?"

 _"Wake up, Edmund Pevensie."_

He woke up abruptly to shouts of panic and triumph. He was still tied to the tree, and suddenly there was a man with the body of a horse (centaur, Ed's mind supplied) screaming and rushing toward him with a sword raised. Before he could blink he was freed, and the centaur had heaved him onto his back. Then they began to gallop away.

"Wait! My sisters and brother! They-"

"We found them, child," the soldier cut him off. "We're taking them back to camp."

The twelve-year old felt such relief and sorrow in that moment that he promptly sagged against the centaur's (human) back in exhaustion. Everything that had happened the past few days crashed down on him, and his achy muscles and sliced back trembled as the adrenaline finally left his system. They broke out of the forest to bright colors, and cheery banners, and a variety of hands and paws moving him, gently examining him. Then there was a regal mane and an untamed roar, and the name _Aslan_ echoed in his skull. The Son of the Emperor rose to greet him, welcomed him home.

The sun felt warm on his skin.

* * *

 **A.N.: Sorry, I know this was a weird spot to leave off on, but I couldn't think of a way to end this one that wouldn't go _on_ forever. We all know what happens to Aslan (at least, if you've read the book or seen the movie). This is an AU, obviously. I recently re-watched the movie, and wondered what would have happened if Peter, Susan, Lucy, and the Beavers hadn't made it through the frozen river scene with the wolves. Somehow, this happened...Anyway, instructive criticism is very much appreciated. I think the dream sequence was a little long, but I wanted to try to write something similar to what the Lion could have discussed with Edmund during the movie though, obviously, Edmund will be feeling more guilt in this AU. Anyway, thanks for reading this! If you leave a comment, it would be great if you use your FanFiction account, that way I can PM you back, 'cause although I appreciate guest reviews, they are a little hard to answer. :)  
**


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